I Never Wanted To Be King
by AllHailMario
Summary: Most saw Raven King Naesala as a selfish, greedy traitor. What nobody fathomed was his inner fear and pain from being forced into kingship over tragedy-stricken Kilvas. While Tibarn questioned the Phoenicis massacre, Naesala had nightmares of his own.
1. Chapter 1

_NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Like with "Secrets Buried Deep," this is actually AllHailMario's sister, using his account to publish some fanfic. I don't create my own because I have doubts about how often I'll keep it up, but perhaps I will join one day. Anyway, it seems all my favorite Fire Emblem characters either have mysterious or not-embellished pasts. Here's one for Naesala - I decided on a one-shot ("one-shot" as in I posted it all in one day...it's too short to be a full story, but too long to keep in one chapter, so I split it into four) because I felt I could fit it all in, and I plan on starting another story for Stefan soon - therefore two continuous stories at once would be a little too much to handle. Hope you enjoy. Give reviews - I heart reviewers. :)_

_STORY SETTING: For those who haven't played Radiant Dawn (or Path of Radiance, for that matter), this story __contains spoilers. __So nearly everything I describe in Naesala's background really did happen according to the games, BUT the actual premise is not based on the game. This takes place shortly after the raven tribe kills off most of the hawk tribe in a confusing act of betrayal. In the actual game, Naesala somehow disappears while Tibarn helps Ike and friends, but in this story, Tibarn actually catches up to Naesala before everyone gets turned into stone and confronts him._

_So, this should eliminate everyone who complains, "Wait, this interaction never happened in the game!" K? We're good? Good. Enjoy the story._

__

He thought he'd heard something.

The raven king, Naesala, stopped in his tracks and looked around. _Curse the evening, _he thought, squinting. _It's getting dark and my eyes are terrible in the night._

He thought it sounded like feathers ruffling. Maybe leaves? Naesala perked his ears, hoping the wind would bring more of the noise to him. All was silent now. _Could be anything, _Naesala took in a breath. _This is a forest, after all. There are plenty of creatures that live in the forest. Could be a fox stepping around...but it really sounded like feathers._

Naesala slowly started to walk again. He supposed he ought to take flight. The sooner he got back to his Kilvan fortress, the better. They _were _in times of war - as good incentive as any to watch his back, especially after what he'd done to the hawk tribe of Ph-

_No! Don't think about that, _Naesala immediately interrupted his thoughts, walking even faster. _That's over. It's...no, just don't think about it. Get it out of your mind. Pretend it didn't even happen. _Now anxious, he unfolded his wings, flapped them a couple times to prepare them for flight, then launched off the ground. It was much darker out than he'd thought, especially in the midst of trees. Curse his poor night vision...

There it was again. That sound. Naesala's heart caught in his throat. It was _definitely _rustling feathers. _It's just one of my spies, _he assured himself. _We're in Kilvas, the only laguz that should be hanging around here are my own kind. Nothing to worry about, just get back to the fortress._ His wings pounded more violently against the wind, pushing him faster through the air. It had to be a Kilvan. Had to be.

Then a shriek rent the air. A _hawk _shriek.

Suddenly terrified, Naesala prepared to transform into his full raven state. Right before the transformation took place, a large solid figure smashed straight into his body and slammed him to the ground. Naesala remained in his demi-beorc form as the rock-hard figure pinned his arms to the dirt and loomed over him.

_Oh, goddess, this is the end..._

"Tibarn," Naesala swallowed, trying to hide his fear but doing a lousy job of it.

Tibarn, the hawk king of Phoenicis, was a fear-inducing laguz even on his good days. His tall, muscular build could make any man shiver in his boots, and when he transformed into his enormous hawk form and aimed his talons, there was no fury like it. Naesala never kidded himself to think that he could ever come close to Tibarn in strength. Now, even though untransformed, the rage and vengeance in Tibarn's eyes struck utter terror in the heart of the raven king.

"Expecting me, crow?" Tibarn's deep voice spoke softly yet full of anger. "You should have been."

Naesala had grown accustomed to the derogatory name of "crow," but still flinched as Tibarn spit it at him. Squirming under Tibarn's weight, he tried in vain to slip his slender wrists out of the hawk king's grip.

"I trusted you, Naesala," Tibarn's voice slowly raised. "That you betrayed us once again is severely disappointing. That you nearly murdered the entire Phoenicis race..."

_He's going to kill me. If I wait five more seconds, I will not be alive. And the pact... _Using his gifted speed, Naesala managed to yank his wrists away from Tibarn and bolt out from under him. He knew he wouldn't get very far - he just had to put more time between him and death to try and think of an explanation.

"You can't kill me yet, Tibarn," Naesala stammered. "As much as I deserve it, I...I can't die yet. Certain things need to be accomplished, and I have to be alive-"

Naesala was interrupted by Tibarn slamming into him again. One of Tibarn's hands firmly grasped Naesala's hair close to his scalp while the other gripped the base of one wing. Naesala squawked in pain and attempted to pull away. It only resulted in both Tibarn's grips getting firmer. Naesala decided to stay put, lest his wing get torn out.

Bringing his face nose to nose with Naesala's, Tibarn growled, "I'll give you till the count of five to explain why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now. Your reason had better be good, or I'll tear both your wings out before wrenching your head off your neck. One..."

"I can't explain it fully right now," Naesala trembled, sweat dripping down his face as Tibarn kept him close. "You don't understand my circumstances."

"Two..."

_I can't tell Tibarn about the pact, or that accursed Lekain will invoke it. If I don't tell, I alone will die. Lekain has so many spies, he'll surely know if I reveal the pact, and once he knows, who knows how many of my people will perish..._

"Three..."

_But if I die, Kilvas is without a leader. I never took the time to establish who gets the throne in the event of my sudden death, so a vastly inexperienced raven may be appointed, and I won't even be alive to warn him of the pact. My death alone could be the end of the Kilvan race..._

"Four..."

_But if I reveal the pact, Lekain will know! THAT will be the end of Kilvas. Our tribe is the smallest of all the laguz, there's not a lot of us left. No matter what I choose, my entire nation will be sentenced to death. Lekain must've forseen this..._

"Five!" Tibarn shouted, releasing Naesala's wing and transferring his hand to Naesala's jaw. Violently he jerked to the side.

"Tibarn, no! My people...!" Naesala shrieked, pushing weakly at Tibarn's face.

"Your people? You think I care anything about your people?" Tibarn ceased from snapping Naesala's neck to slap him heavily across the face. "After what your nation did to mine, you think I care if there's a single one of you left alive? By the end of this, your nation along with your name will be buried for the massacre at Phoenicis." - Another slap - "You're only fortunate I'm a merciful man. I _should _torture you until you can hardly breathe before ending your life."

Perhaps fear made him give in. Perhaps the head blows destroyed any further ability to argue with himself. Whatever the case, Naesala yanked his jacket sleeve up his arm and held it out in front of Tibarn. Breathing hard and trying not to vomit, Naesala waited as Tibarn noticed the strange black design on his forearm.

"What is that supposed to be?" Tibarn demanded.

"I...I can't explain it now, but it's the reason behind everything," Naesala said. "When the time comes-"

"The time is now," Tibarn grabbed Naesala's hair again. "You give me a reason to keep you breathing now or it's over for you. I think you're just stalling for time, giving excuses, trying to avoid responsibility for your ugliness like always. I refuse to play your games anymore, crow. You talk now or you will never get the opportunity again."

_Oh, Kilvas, forgive me, _Naesala swallowed, taking a shaky breath before choking out, "It's a blood pact. That's what the mark is."

"Keep talking," Tibarn snarled, tightening his grip on the raven's hair. "Explain yourself fast."

"It means I'm bound under the writer of the pact," Naesala said, praying Tibarn would release him and stop the pain, if only for a moment. "I must do whatever the writer of the pact commands of me or else he will invoke the pact. This mark means I'm bound under Begnion. If they order me to do something, I must do it. I have no other choice."

Nauseated and trembling, Naesala prayed there weren't any Begnion spies hanging around. If there were, the pact could be invoked as early as tomorrow. One mysterious death would be the beginning of another "plague," and Kilvas still hadn't gotten over the first one. His entire country would be thrown into a panic and would die in fear.

"What happens if Begnion invokes the pact?" Tibarn asked, his voice slightly calmer, his grip definitely not. "What terrible thing will happen that causes you to obey Begnion no matter what they ask?"

Naesala hated to even think about the past. Kilvas as a whole tried to put it behind them, lest they live in worry their entire lives. Still, at this point, it was no use holding back. Naesala had already told about the pact, and Tibarn was still on the verge of ending his life for murdering most of the Phoenicis race.

"The pact comes in the form of a plague," Naesala explained quietly. "The first day it's invoked, one of my people will die. On the second day, two will day. On the third, three. You get the point. The pact ends whenever Begnion desires it to end. Any number of Kilvans could perish before Begnion forgives."

Tibarn slowly released the grip on the raven's hair. Wincing, Naesala massaged his throbbing scalp. Tibarn rubbed his thumb across Naesala's pact mark, then looked back into the raven king's eyes. Naesala could see a bit more understanding in them. There was a slight chance he might actually get to keep his life.

"So let me ask something that might sound like a stupid question," Tibarn spoke sarcastically. "As deceitful and sly as you are, you've always come across to me as rather intelligent. What the devil would cause you to sign any kind of blood pact with Begnion, knowing it came with this? Even with your excessive greed for riches, surely nothing they could have promised would be worth this kind of bondage."

"I did nothing," Naesala frowned, bitterness creeping in. "I simply inherited the pact from the former king of Kilvas. Yes, I do try to make a name for Kilvas and becoming rich is an easy way to do that. But no amount of riches could buy my allegiance to a blood pact. As the former king died and I was crowned king, this mark showed up on my arm. One of my new stewards had to explain to me what it was."

Tibarn stared at Naesala for a moment before bringing his face close again and growling, "You'd better be telling me the truth, crow."

"I would not lie about something that affects my country this greatly," Naesala replied. "The life or death of my people relies on this. I would not speak falsely about a matter this important."

"Why did the former king sign the pact?" Tibarn asked, seeming to calm down even further. "I never knew much about him, as he reigned before I became king."

Naesala frowned and sighed. "Let's be frank, Tibarn. My nation is the weakest among the laguz. We were freed from slavery last, simply because we weren't strong enough to escape. While your hawks were powerful enough to fight off Begnion if they came for you, Kilvas was not. Begnion promised King Ellukka the safety of his own land if he signed the pact. If he did not, Begnion could easily have overtaken us and enslaved us again."

Tibarn glanced at the ground for a moment, seeming to think over everything Naesala had told him. Naesala closed his eyes, suddenly shamed for his race. _I have done all I can to be the best king for Kilvas, _he thought bitterly. _Yet we are so weak that we must resort to slavery to survive. We could never win a war on our own, while our hawk brethren wouldn't bat an eye. Had I simply been born with a different set of wings, none of this would ever have happened to me._

"In the form of a plague..." Tibarn muttered, suddenly looking up at Naesala. "The pact...you mean..._that's _what happened to Kilvas years ago? That's how...?"

"Begnion wanted us to spy on Daein," Naesala spat. "King Ellukka refused. Had our ravens gotten caught in the act, not only would they have been sentenced to death, but Daein likely would have attacked back, maybe even declared war. We'd never survive Daein's military strength. Unfortunately not many of us survived the effects of the blood pact. That time was so much hell that we probably would've preferred Daein showing up on our island..."

_Note from the author: After reading this story over several times, I felt I should describe my reasoning behind Naesala's disposition. During most of the game(s), Naesala's a rather sly fellow who speaks very calmly and almost always has a smirk on his face. However, here I take into account all the stress that he's under, and of course the very distinct reality of being slain by Tibarn, to explain the raven king's fear and honesty. Also, in Radiant Dawn, at one point this part of Naesala's personality is shown, when Skrimir attempts to kill him. So this story here focuses on how Naesala really feels, and leaves out most of the nonchalant front he puts up. Moving on to part two..._


	2. Chapter 2

_Naesala opened his eyes, saw the daylight coming through his window. Sitting up, he realized it was morning. _It was morning. _Beautiful, beautiful morning - most beautiful that he was alive to see it. It had been fifty-two days since the Death Angel began, and if the pattern was as consistent that day as it had been, fifty-two ravens would die in their sleep that morning._

_Naesala was not one of the fifty-two. Thank goddess he'd been spared for another day._

_But who knew when this plague would end? When would the Death Angel's thirst be quenched? Would it continue forever until the entire Kilvan race was no more?_

_And WHY was Kilvas the only race affected?_

_His heart thumped hard against his chest as he dressed himself and floated down from his loft. He hated it. He hated this time, waking up every morning in fear, wondering if he would live to see the next day, or the day after that. He could hardly force himself to sleep at night, wondering if he was experiencing his final moments. Each day, more and more ravens died. The Death Angel picked indiscriminately. Naesala hated to go out into the streets - he couldn't stand listening to the wailing and weeping, watching more bodies being buried, seeing other ravens attempt to take their own lives before the plague took them._

_Naesala shuddered as he made his way to the kitchen. "Nealuchi?" he called. "Are you here?"_

_His heart beat so loudly he could hardly hear beyond it. Swallowing and taking several deep breaths, Naesala tried to calm himself. Nealuchi was a precious old bird - ever since Naesala was a baby raven dropped off at his front door, Nealuchi had cared for him and raised him well. Naesala never knew his parents, but he figured if they just left him crying, without even a blanket to keep warm, they couldn't have cared about him very much._

_Nealuchi had raised Naesala to be strong, much stronger than the average raven. Perhaps it was because Nealuchi was among the oldest of the entire raven tribe and had endured a fair portion of his life in Begnion slavery. The old man told stories about the strict rules, the mocking laughs of his beorc masters, the frequent beatings, the executions of friends who didn't please their owners. Nealuchi had fought hard to free himself from such misery - perhaps he wanted to be sure Naesala would never endure the same fate. _

_Now every morning Naesala called out for his old caretaker at breakfast. He didn't know what he'd do if Nealuchi died in the night - a distinct possibility. Feeling nauseated at Nealuchi not responding quickly, Naesala called louder: "Nealuchi!"_

_"I'm alright, Nestling," Nealuchi's crackled voice floated through the air. Naesala turned around and sighed in relief as the old man approached him and touched his hand, adding, "I checked on you this morning...as I do every morning...you were peacefully sleeping, breathing gently. I thank the goddess everyday you're still with me." _

_"As do I, Nealuchi," Naesala smiled, then rummaged through the cabinets for food. Something light...he never could eat too much these days. His stomach was always queasy._

"_...The last of the family next door passed on," Nealuchi mentioned softly. "They were always wonderful neighbors. Dashing young couple, with five adorable children...it's too bad..."_

_Naesala closed his eyes, his throat tightening. The mother had been the last surviving one. After watching her husband and all five children die, she'd hugged Naesala tightly the day before, sobbing that she might be gone the next day. Her prediction was horrifyingly correct._

"_And...Kerrigan is...also gone..." Nealuchi painfully continued._

"_What?" Naesala whirled around. "That's...that's not true. Please, Nealuchi..."_

_Kerrigan had been Naesala's best friend since childhood. They learned to fly together, played games together, planned their futures together. They joked about Naesala becoming king of Kilvas one day, since he _was _eighty-third in line to receive the throne and anything was possible. Once Naesala became king, he would hire Kerrigan to be his right-hand man. They'd have a blast, being rich, eating whatever they wanted, throwing parties, hanging out with the other laguz kings. _

_Naesala sat down on a nearby chair and buried his face in his hands. Kerrigan was gone. There was no future with his best friend. Everything they ever planned for, ever joked about, vanished. Kerrigan's offbeat sense of humor, his supporting arm, his quirky personality would never live again._

_His best friend was dead._

_Not only that, but their "jokes" about Naesala becoming king of Kilvas weren't so far-fetched now. Naesala was now fifty-eighth in line to receive the throne of Kilvas, and who knew how many more of the successors would die before him. What would transpire if the worst happened and Naesala really did have to become king? Kerrigan wouldn't be there to help him._

Oh, goddess, please don't let me be king. I don't have any of the skills to rule a country. I am completely unready. I don't even want to be king. Ever. Goddess, please...

"_And...among the fifty-two that passed today..." Nealuchi cautiously pressed on, "At least ten were before you in succession to the throne of Kilvas. That makes you...forty-eighth in line now, at least?"_

"_Nealuchi, please, I can't take any more of this!" Naesala cried, tears stinging his eyes. "Are we doomed? Is Kilvas completely doomed to die? Hundreds have died already. Nobody knows when their time is coming. Will I die tomorrow? Will you?"_

_Bursting with emotion and panic, Naesala jumped up from the chair and began to storm towards Nealuchi. "Is this the end? Are we living in the end times for us? By this time next year, there may not even _be _a raven tribe! Why is this happening? The terror is so thick that we practically breathe it. Our weak nation has been made even more hopeless. Is this it? Is this the fate of the ravens? Is this MY fate, to never be happy again? To perish in fear? To live only to die? Is this tormenting hell the last memory this nation will ever have?"_

_"Nestling!" Nealuchi shouted, grabbing Naesala by the shoulders. He paused as Naesala shakily tried to control his breathing. "This is a heartbreaking time for our tribe, Nestling. Nobody knows why this is happening. Ravens have fled to other lands, to see if it's simply the island itself that's cursed, only to find out it's the people. We are all scared. But we must use this time to live our lives in the best way possible, to love deeply, to make amends to everyone we've ever hurt. We must care for the mourning, and when alone we must give praise for every day we are alive. At this point none of us can afford to take life for granted."_

_"Kilvas has lived in nothing but the darkest of times," Naesala whispered, trembling. "What peace we have experienced has been short-lived. Will we ever see the light?"_

_"We are the light, Nestling," Nealuchi squeezed the young man's shoulder. "Living boldly and lovingly during the worst of circumstances sets us apart and gives other nations hope as they see us. That is our role at this point."_

_Naesala narrowed his eyes at the old man. "I thought you always said we should fight back and never let our nation be tormented again."_

_"That is true for forces we can control," Nealuchi stated. "If Begnion arrived at our shores, by all means we shouldn't let them take us captive. But how do you suppose we can fight against the Death Angel? We know not where, why, or for who she comes. Since we can do nothing about it, we must employ different tactics. We must live with no regret."_

_Naesala didn't understand how Nealuchi could be so calm while the rest of their tribe was so frightened. Live life boldly? Naesala just wanted to crawl under his bed covers and wake up when it was all over, pretend like it was just a dream. Still, the love and peace in Nealuchi's eyes somehow managed to calm him down some. Sighing, Naesala allowed the old man to wrap his frail arms around his torso._

_"I love you, Nestling," Nealuchi whispered. "Always have, always will. You'll always be my Nestling."_

_"You're pretty cool too, old man," Naesala mumbled, giving a small smile. _

_"I suppose that's your hip young speech for 'I love you too, Nealuchi,'" Nealuchi grinned, his eyes twinkling._

_"Something like that," Naesala said, then paused in thought. "Nealuchi...what happens if...if everyone in succession to the throne dies and it belongs to me? What if I have to become king? I can't lead a nation. I don't even pay attention to politics."_

_"Come now, Nestling," Nealuchi shrugged nonchalantly. "You may be forty-eighth in line for the throne, but that is still a long ways away. I'd say the chances of you becoming king are next to impossible. Don't worry about it." _

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo


	3. Chapter 3

"I must admit...I can't quite fathom the terror," Tibarn finally spoke. "It...must've been torment to live through."

"It was the kind of thing you have nightmares about and feel so relieved when you wake up and figure out it wasn't real," Naesala mumbled. "Only it _was _real. It was a nightmare that didn't cease until one hundred days had passed. Our tribe had to live in pain and fear every minute of every day for three whole months. When it finally ended, five thousand and fifty ravens had perished - which was half of our entire nation, we weren't that large to begin with. And that doesn't even count the ones that committed suicide before the plague could claim them. To this day, my country doesn't know how the plague came upon us. But I know, because of this." He showed Tibarn the mark on his arm once more.

"That's how you became first in line to succeed the throne," Tibarn remarked. "I've always wondered."

"I never wanted to be king," Naesala spat bitterly. "Even after reigning as many years as I have, I still feel unready."

_"All rise," a loud voice rang through the hall._

_Obediently the entire room rose to their feet._

_Naesala swallowed and glanced about the room. There must've been hundreds of nobles, watching him from their pews in the palace hall. He felt completely insecure. _I mustn't show them my true feelings, _Naesala said to himself, straightening his shoulders and lifting his wings a little higher. _No need to terrify the whole nation by having them crown an unbefitting wimp for a king.

_Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nealuchi in the back of the room. He was far too poor and unsightly to stand with the nobles, of course, but since he was Naesala's only family, he had been invited to the crowning ceremony. Naesala didn't want to look at the old bird now. Nealuchi's prediction that Naesala becoming king was "next to impossible" had been embarrassingly wrong, as Naesala slowly walked down the aisle and approached the throne._

I can't do this, _Naesala shivered, hoping no one could see his nervousness through his bold act. _With the exception of love for my country, I have no qualifications to be king. I know one of the first questions those nobles will ask me is what I'm going to do first, and I don't have an answer to give them. I know nothing about royal duties. I am going to be the worst king Kilvas has ever had.

_The aisle seemed a mile long as Naesala desperately wished he could just fly to the throne and be done with it. Though he stared straight ahead, he could feel the eyes of the nobles boring into him, examining him to see if he'd make a good ruler. Perhaps it was only Naesala's imagination, but he couldn't help but feel as if they disapproved already. Normally their kings were much older (and presumably wiser) men, having served in battle already and done much good in their communities. Naesala was young and fresh, and the only fighting he'd ever done was that one time as a child when he punched another young raven child in the nose for stealing his grasshopper snack._

_Finally he reached the foot of the stairs leading to the throne. Naesala examined the royal chair as he knelt before the stairs. It was sickeningly majestic, made with rich red fabric and sturdy wood. _That throne is probably worth more money than our whole house, _Naesala remarked to himself. He'd never lived among the rich - he'd grown up playing in the trees, performing household chores, learning the language of the streets. Naesala was sure his casual way of speaking would bug the pinfeathers out of his court._

_The archbishop approached him with a large rod in his hand, babbling on and on, asking questions such as, "Do you, as king, take it upon yourself to protect your country in times of peace and in times of war?" and "Do you, as king, vow to perform for the best interest of your people?" Naesala simply inserted "I do" when there was a pause in the archbishop's speech. His mind was racing so heavily that he could hardly concentrate on anything the man was saying._

_The archbishop then spoke firmly, snapping Naesala out of his thoughts. Naesala gazed up at the man, keeping a cool face but inwardly panicking trying to remember what he said. The pause felt awkward._

_"Will you not rise, Naesala?" the archbishop asked, frowning slightly._

_"I will," Naesala stated, rising to his feet and quickly thinking of an excuse. "I...simply wanted to stay kneeling for a second or two longer, to thank the goddess for giving me this honor to serve Kilvas as king."_

_The archbishop smiled, and the audience behind Naesala clapped heartily. _Well, at least I said that right, _Naesala inwardly sighed with relief. _

_"As the nation of Kilvas watches, will you sit on the royal throne, Naesala?" the archbishop motioned to the decadent chair. Naesala gave a small nod and lowered himself onto the throne as gracefully as he could. _Bah, _he frowned to himself. _As soon as this coronation is done, there will be no more of this fancy talk and strict noble behavior. The court will just have to deal with my laidback way of doing things.

_"If anyone objects to Naesala being crowned king of Kilvas, let him speak his reason now," the archbishop called loudly._

_The room answered with silence._

_The archbishop nodded to a young raven boy, who appeared very nervous as he brought forth a pillow with a silver crown resting on it. It wasn't a very elaborate headpiece - didn't look very heavy, and only had a few small diamonds embedded - but Naesala still didn't want to wear it. One of the palace stewards had told him he only had to wear it the first day; King Ellukka never wore it either._

_"O beautiful nation of Kilvas, I now crown your new king, Naesala," the archbishop announced to the hall, slowly lowering the crown onto Naesala's head._

_The court erupted in applause._

__

_He'd waited until he was safely alone. Now, shut inside his room, Naesala tore off his shirt and examined his body. Ever since that crown touched his head, he strongly felt something wasn't right. He was sure it wasn't just his nerves about being forced into kingship._

_"There's something unnatural going on here," Naesala muttered to himself, trotting over to the looking glass. His torso looked fine, as did his face. His wings hadn't changed one bit. His left arm was just the way it always was, and his right-..._

_Naesala's heart shot to his throat. Inked into his right wrist was a strange black design, almost looked like a signature. There had certainly been no mark when he woke up this morning._

_"What is this?" Naesala whispered to himself, rubbing fervently against it with his other hand, trying to make it fade. His efforts were fruitless. Terribly nauseated, Naesala examined the mark more closely. _How on earth could it have gotten on my wrist? _he wondered. _Could someone possibly have marked it there while I wasn't paying attention? Surely I would've felt it...

This is disturbing.

_Lightly flapping his wings to move as speedily as possible, Naesala zoomed to the bell that sat on the small table beside his enormous kingly bed. With a firm grip, Naesala practically throttled the bell, calling, "I need someone now! Somebody explain this to me!"_

_After a moment, the bedroom door quietly opened and the chief palace servant entered, an annoyed look on his face. "You need only to ring the bell, Your Majesty," he stated. "We will respond to your request without your feeling the need to yell."_

_"Where I grew up, we didn't have stupid bells," Naesala said, chucking the bell on the bed and walking towards his servant. "Now would you care to expl-"_

_"Your Majesty..." the servant winced, then sighed. "Your way of speaking is quite...lowly. Now that you are king, I expect you'll want to use more...well, royal methods of speech. Crass words like 'stupid' are only used by peasant folk."_

_"I'll stupid use whatever stupid words I want to stupid use, thank you very stupid much," Naesala frowned. "I'm not going to talk all frilly because I'm a king now. Please don't interrupt, because this is really important."_

_"Understood, Your Majesty," the servant replied, the look on his face indicating how much he'd love to slug the new king at that moment._

_Naesala ignored his expression and instead shoved his wrist in the servant's face. "What is this? It wasn't there before I was crowned and it's starting to freak me out."_

_The servant cringed, probably at Naesala's "peasant" choice of words, but studied the mark. A knowing look came across his face. Naesala's heart began to pound. _What does this guy know that I don't? _he thought. _Is there something more to becoming the king of Kilvas? Is this one more thing that I have to worry about? Am I going to die? Oh, yeah, that'd be great. 'Hey, you're the king of Kilvas now, and oh, by the way, that mark means you're going to die next week. Sorry.'

_"I was the chief servant of the late King Ellukka as well, Your Majesty," the servant spoke in a solemn voice. "Therefore I was quite close to him. He confided in me things that he never told anyone else. When he passed away this past week...well, he knew his time was coming. His illness could not be cured, as it was mainly from a broken heart. As you know, his..."_

_"His wife and children perished in the plague," Naesala finished quietly. He didn't want to talk about that now. The plague had ended only one month prior. Naesala hadn't just received a crown - he'd obtained a nation full of terrified, weak, mourning ravens._

_"After such loss, I doubt anyone could survive that memory," the servant swallowed. "Especially knowing he caused it."_

_"He what?" Naesala startled. It hadn't been an accident?_

_"Before he died, Ellukka commanded me to inform you of this," the servant went on, pointing to the mark. "He was...admittedly quite concerned about your appointment to kingship, as you are...well, young and inexperienced. The survival of the entire Kilvan race depends on you now, Your Majesty. That mark on your arm is that of a blood pact. It stained Ellukka's arm before yours and was transfered to yours as you were crowned king. It's very, spiritually, dangerously powerful."_

_Naesala didn't understand any of what was being said to him. He merely stared at the mark in disbelief. What on earth was a blood pact, and why was he involved? There was nothing about this on the kingship pact - he'd actually read the thing before he signed it. Nothing about a mysterious mark appearing on his arm after he signed. Nothing about the "survival of the entire Kilvan race" depending on him. _

_"Ellukka agreed to this blood pact with Begnion," the servant continued, his face falling. "Begnion threatened to invade Kilvas, destroy the island, and enslave our people once again. It wasn't that long ago when we won our freedom, you know. Begnion has more power than we could ever hope to compete with. If we'd become slaves again, we'd likely never be able to free ourselves again. The beast and dragon tribe would both likely ignore our captivity, and while the hawks might attempt to rescue us, as soon as Begnion got wind of it, they'd almost certainly start a raven massacre. So Senator Lekain made this proposition to Ellukka: Begnion would allow Kilvas to dwell in their own land and live in freedom, so long as Kilvas responded to any special requests Begnion would ask of them. Lekain promised the favors would be few and far between. Desperate for freedom, Ellukka signed the pact. And yes, Lekain did keep his word. He, in fact, only asked for one favor - it was so much to the detriment of Kilvas that it clearly was a lose-lose situation for us."_

_"Okay, wait, stop," Naesala waved his hands. "You still haven't even explained what a blood pact is. What's so important about it and why do I even have to follow it? What will happen if I don't?"_

_"The Death Angel will happen if you don't follow it," the servant stared deeply into Naesala's eyes. "The way the blood pact works, if the 'servant' of the pact - in this case, Kilvas - fails to obey the commands of the 'writer' of the pact - which is Begnion - then the writer of the pact has the supernatural ability to invoke a curse upon the servant. The curse is the slow, steady, plague-like death of the servant's people. The curse can last as long as the writer desires."_

_It took a couple seconds for Naesala to even breathe again. This is what caused the Death Angel? This is what HE'S bound to? "So because we're too weak to withstand Begnion, they use this method to gain ultimate control of us. We are more tightly bound to them by the blood pact than by slavery."_

_"You are correct, Your Majesty," the servant sighed. "One day, Senator Lekain arrived at the palace via warp powder with his 'special request.' He wanted us to invade Daein, spy on it, uncover their plans of war. Daein's activity was becoming suspicious - and, if Daein decided to launch war, they might have the power to accomplish much."_

_"And let me guess, sending Begnion troops was way too risky, so he wanted to use our men," Naesala swallowed. "That way, if we got caught, Begnion could simply claim Kilvas was acting on its own. Our forces wouldn't be strong enough to withstand the entire Daein army showing up on our doorstep. Plus, in the past, Daein's infamous for successfully pulling off surprise attacks. They could decimate us before our hawk brethren ever got word of it."_

_"Exactly," the servant replied. "Ellukka predicted a war between Daein and Kilvas, with the end results painfully obvious. He pleaded with Lekain to take back his request, to use our services for some other purpose. Lekain refused to take it back, and Ellukka refused to invade Daein. The very next day, the pact was invoked. As you know, it lasted one hundred whole days. We are twice as weak now than when we first began. We can't afford another plague."_

_Naesala glanced back down at his mark - his pact, the pact he never signed into. _I never wanted to be king, _he thought bitterly. _I never wanted any of the duties - and here I get much more than I bargained for!

_"Well, this was quite noble of him, to not explain this to me until AFTER I was crowned!" Naesala barked, anger suddenly spiking inside him. "It's not enough I inherit a struggling, weeping, half-dead country, looking to me to bring them out of this sorrow and pain that I hardly know how to deal with myself. It's not enough that I get yanked out of the simple world I grew up in to take on the duties of running a nation, after it was almost guaranteed I'd never obtain this position. Now, right after I get the weight of the world thrown on my shoulders, he tells me afterwards, 'Oh, by the way, you get this blood pact too. I know you never signed up for it, but you get all my mistakes anyway.' What am I supposed to do when Lekain shows up again? If Ellukka couldn't escape tragedy, what do you expect ME to do? I've never even tasted war!"_

_"I know it wasn't very fair," the servant closed his eyes and sighed. "I deeply, deeply apologize for springing this on you at this moment."_

_Wondering how much more his soul could be crushed, Naesala managed to get out, "Is there any way I can get rid of this?"_

_The servant swallowed and looked down. "If there is, we haven't found it yet, Your Majesty...I'm sorry."_


	4. Chapter 4

Tibarn and Naesala stood in silence, both staring at the ground. Naesala couldn't tell what Tibarn was thinking, but he hoped he'd gotten the point across. He never wanted any of this to happen - he never even wanted to be in charge of anything. He'd been a king for so many years and still he thought he might've been the worst king Kilvas ever crowned. _I've always done what I thought best for my country, _Naesala sighed to himself, _But even love for a country doesn't teach you how to run it. I've betrayed my allies multiple times, assisted the enemy with little gain for myself, nearly massacred an entire race._

Glancing up at Tibarn, Naesala's stomach suddenly lurched. _The hawks have been our closest friends. They helped us escape the clutches of Begnion. They helped us establish our nation. They even offered what support they could after the pact destroyed half our people. Now, not only have I betrayed them once again, by my hand the majority of them are dead. The children of the survivors will hear over and over how Naesala, king of the ravens, brutally murdered their clan. It wouldn't matter if they ever learned why I had to do it - it was at my hand they fell. They can't blame anyone else._

"How well do you think you've run your country?" Tibarn finally spoke.

_Has he been reading my mind or something?_

"Kilvas has forever been dealt with lose-lose situations, Tibarn," Naesala replied. "No matter what choice I make, someone has to suffer for it. So in every decision, I must think only of my people and how we are affected. Call me devious, call me traitorous, call me selfish - no doubt I'm all those things. It's true I looked away every time I betrayed my allies and left them to struggle, but at least I could rest my eyes on my own people, who were still living, breathing, and attempting to prosper."

Tibarn remained silent for a second or two, his jaw clenched, then asked, "I understand your predicaments must have been hard. And I understand you're still recovering from a mass plague of death. But after all we've done for you, all the times we've forgiven you for your treachery, all the ways we've even carried you when you were struggling...you think we didn't know you were suffering? We had no idea what caused your plague, but we were aware you lost many of your citizens. After the kind of brothers we've been to you, did you even think twice about killing us all? Will you honestly tell me you were so focused on your own people that you thought nothing of betraying us to the point of a massacre?"

Painful, horrific, split-second flashbacks run through Naesala's mind, and he closes his eyes to try and keep them out. _Stop it, just stop it. Don't think about the specifics..._

"Did you even bat an eyelash? Did you even stop to consider your brothers before agreeing to this?" Tibarn began to raise his voice, approaching Naesala. "Was there any thought behind it at all?"

"The massacre at Phoenicis was the hardest thing I ever had to do, Tibarn," Naesala spoke over Tibarn's anger, slowly backing away before Tibarn could reach him. "When Senator Lekain demanded the task of me, I refused. Even...even the first time Lekain threatened the plague, I refused. I couldn't purposely send my own men out to kill those who'd never done us any harm. But...Lekain made the threat very clear. Had I refused once more, the pact would've been invoked the next day. Another hundred-day plague would leave only about three thousand of us left, after which we'd be too small and useless even for Begnion to use for war and spying purposes. Begnion would probably then invade Kilvas, enslave the rest of the raven clan within a couple of weeks, and thus would be the end of Kilvas. The last of us would die in slavery."

Tibarn closed his mouth, taking a deep breath and appearing to be in deep thought. "You wouldn't die in slavery..." Tibarn mumbled. "If it came to that, the hawks would come to your aide. There is strength even in small numbers for us."

"Even in slavery, I would still be bound by the pact, Tibarn," Naesala frowned. "All Lekain would have to do is command me to do something crazy, even nonsensical. Once you 'rescued' us, the pact would be invoked. With only three thousand of us left, a one-hundred-day plague would kill every last one of us." 

Naesala felt utterly hopeless as he spoke. He never liked to think too deeply about his lot in life. He never liked to think that he was only a puppet in the hands of Senator Lekain, forced to commit disgusting, horrific acts lest his nation perish in terror. He never liked to think that Kilvas never had the hope and strength the other laguz nations had, and perhaps never would. Even in desperate times of war, Gallia was fighting back. Even after the mass murder, Phoenicis could avenge. And of course, no one entered Goldoa for fear of being crisped by the all-powerful dragons.

Kilvas? It wouldn't take half a year to wipe them out completely.

"For as long as I've known you, you've appeared aloof and uncaring," Tibarn spoke softly, his face showing sadness but no longer any anger. "Arrogant, even. You robbed ships, dealt around with humans, anything to fulfill your lust for money and fame. You hardly ever seemed concerned about anything. But that's just a front, isn't it? You're only using that part of your personality as a mask."

Naesala didn't respond.

"Leanne has...always told me you've felt a lot of pain," Tibarn mumbled. "I thought she was overlooking your flaws simply because she liked you, but...Reyson felt something too. Even he can see inside of you when you're not paying attention."

Naesala felt his cheeks grow warm at the mention of Leanne's name. He'd been fond of the heron princess since the day he first met her - now that they saw each other on a fairly regular basis, he couldn't deny that he'd fallen in love. Yet every time he considered proposing marriage, he would be required to perform another treacherous act from Begnion - an act that almost always affected his relationship with the heron clan.

After murdering most of the Phoenicis race, Naesala was pretty sure Leanne would never marry him now.

"Tell the truth, Naesala," Tibarn said firmly, stepping up and staring the raven directly in the face. "Enough with the false confidence and the sly act. Tell me what's really going on inside you."

Naesala bristled. Though he'd been more open now and hardly hid behind his sarcasm when Tibarn confronted him, he didn't want to be _completely _honest. Sure, he was notorious for fleeing when all other laguz would fight, but if anyone really knew how pathetic he felt inside, they'd think him incurably weak. He didn't need to further tarnish his reputation.

Still, at this point, he'd given up practically everything else. Tibarn knew his history, knew the fear of the Kilvans, knew his motives. Knew he wasn't at all the confident king he'd appeared to be for so long.

"If it weren't for the fact that my people are still at risk because of the pact, I wouldn't have stopped you from killing me," Naesala quietly admitted. "Sometimes I wish I'd never been born at all. I still have nightmares every night for what I did to you. I would much rather die myself than murder the race of Phoenicis. But...if I died, a far less experienced raven could be crowned king - one even more inexperienced than I was, to make things scarier. One bad decision could erase our clan forever. So while I'm not proud of my acts as king, at least the survival of Kilvas is under my control and I can focus on those decisions. I...only agreed to attack Phoenicis after Lekain threatened to invoke the pact the next day and cause Nealuchi to be the first to die. I'm not sure if they are actually capable of doing that, but I wasn't taking that risk. Nealuchi took me in and raised me to adulthood, after my parents abandoned me. He may be an overflattering old bird sometimes, but I owe my life to him."

Tibarn stared at Naesala for what seemed like hours before speaking again: "I can better understand your decision now. Will I ever forgive you for killing my people? ...That I can't say. After hearing everything you've gone through, I'd like to. But the murder of my people is not something I'll easily get over, even if you were forced to do it."

"I appreciate that," Naesala sighed. "I'm not so coldhearted and evil to commit such an act without remorse. Sometimes I wish the plague would have taken me, saved me from making such ugly moves. But basically Lekain gave me two choices - I kill your people or I kill mine. As a king looking out for the best interest of my people, the choice, though painful and certainly unwanted, was obvious."

Tibarn stiffened, then sighed, his eyes drifting back to Naesala's mark. Naesala knew there was one more question coming - one that he didn't have the answer to. He'd give his right arm to be able to have the answer. Surely there was one...

"Is there any way to get rid of that damned pact?" Tibarn echoed the exact question Naesala had in his mind.

"Lekain told me there is not, but of course he'd say that," Naesala replied. "I'm sure there must be some way for me to cancel it. It can't be continued forever. Still...even after all my research, I haven't found a way to destroy the pact. Even death won't cancel the pact - it just moves on to the next king, and if a king weren't crowned, Lekain could simply ask the dead king to do something. Since the king is dead, obviously the command doesn't get followed, and the pact gets invoked. Every part of me longs to find the answer to this...but until I find it, this is what I continue to live in."

_"Attention, Kilvans! You've an order from the king himself," Naesala announced loudly, standing tall on his perch and gazing down on his army. Hundreds of Kilvans waited for his next command, ready to relay it to the rest of the army. Naesala swallowed and took a deep breath - he hoped he was too high up for them to notice his disgust with the next words to come out of his mouth._

_"Originally we were going to be assisting Gallia and Phoenicis in defeating the great army of Daein," Naesala continued. "We were going to distract Daein by attacking their supply convoy. Slight change of plans. For the good of Kilvas, I've decided it would be more beneficial to join forces with Daein and Begnion."_

_Naesala noticed several of the Kilvan soldiers exchanging uneasy glances with each other. Others he saw spit on the ground in disgust. Naesala was highly aware his people hated the notion of fighting against their fellow laguz with their former slave owners - Naesala himself hated the notion. However, he had to sound authorative. Even when his people disagreed with his tactics, they always obeyed because they believed he would always keep Kilvas' best interest at heart._

_"I've already sent a couple of scouts to inform the army of Phoenicis on the whereabouts of the Daein convoy," Naesala said. "However, I actually gave them the location of the Central Occuptation Army of Daein." He took a deep breath, tried to calm his pounding heart, and tried not to choke as he added, "While Tibarn and his small troop of men are unexpectedly facing General Zelgius of Daein, we will be invading the unarmed, unsuspecting country of Phoenicis. To ensure victory for Daein, your objective is to destroy the entire nation of Phoenicis."_

_Even Naesala couldn't have pictured the uproar. Enraged shouts and curses rang through the air as the army of Kilvas showed obvious refusal. One of the chief soldiers - Naesala remembered his name to be Laiko - flew above the rest of the army and slowly approached Naesala. _

_"Your Majesty, we have stood by you to the end," Laiko barked, glaring at the king. One stern look from Naesala told Laiko he couldn't approach any further. "We have followed through on commands that haven't made sense, that we haven't even agreed with. Our hawk brethren have come to our aide numerous times and all you've commanded us to do is work against them. We obeyed your orders because we believed you wanted the best for Kilvas. But this? What you're asking doesn't benefit anybody! You would have us join forces with the same accursed humans that enslaved us for ages and coldbloodedly murder the only race that has helped us stay alive! You really think this is best for Kilvas? You really think Phoenicis won't seek their revenge on us? Even when they're unsuspecting, we can't kill them all, Your Majesty. We're not strong enough. And frankly, we're not heartless enough either."_

_Laiko's words seemed to stir up the ravens even more, to the point where Naesala began to get nervous. Several more were approaching him. His first inclination was to back off, but he realized that would show him weak - and that was the last thing he needed. Instead, he held his ground and moved into a position to transform._

_"Do I need to take drastic measures to calm you down?" he warned._

_"Sure, Your Grace, why don't you kill us all now, before Phoenicis can get to it?" another voice shouted in the crowd._

_Naesala had to think of something and quick. His people were looking enraged enough to seriously harm him, or at least subdue him and take the power out of his hands. Should that happen, the pact could easily be invoked. Kilvas would slowly perish._

_"Every command I have ever given you was for the good of the Kilvan people," Naesala raised his voice over the riotous cries. "That has not changed even now. You think I desire to kill the hawk tribe? You think I'd side with Begnion because they promised gold and great wealth?"_

_"You had us join Daein years before for that very purpose!" Laiko growled. "Daein's been using our ravens as bait in their laguz hunts for decades!"_

_Naesala closed his eyes and clenched his teeth together. The gold had merely been a perk for aiding Daein. For whatever reason - it was still not clear to him - Senator Lekain had been the one to command him to side with Daein. Of course he couldn't refuse._

_Opening his eyes, Naesala's heart leapt into his throat. Some of his soldiers were getting dangerously close to him. The rebellion was growing too large. A couple minutes more and he would be overcome by his own people. He had to calm them. He had to get them to listen to him and obey his commands. Their lives depended on it._

_"I know from whence the Death Angel came," Naesala yelled firmly._

_Total, almost instant silence. The cries stopped, the angry looks faded, replaced by shock and confusion. Naesala swallowed a couple of times. He had to pull this off without revealing too much. Lekain told him not to tell about his pact. He couldn't let it accidentally slip._

_"As royalty, I am the only one who knows and as such I can't reveal such matters to you," Naesala continued, trying to sound much braver than he felt. "The only thing you must know is this: if you do not obey my orders, the plague will haunt us once again. Everything I command is for the good of the Kilvan people. Do not destroy the nation I'm trying to save."_

_Naesala did not want to look at the faces of his people, but couldn't help it. They were all familiar expressions - the same expressions they had when the first plague had ended. Utter, complete hopelessness and despair. Kilvas was once again thrown into fear and pain. Soldiers glanced uneasily at each other. Some looked ready to throw up, others to cry. Laiko looked up to the sky, closed his eyes, and fell to his knees. Horror was thick in the air._

_"This is the hardest thing we've ever had to do, but we must do it," Naesala stated, keeping his tone authorative. "If we don't massacre Phoenicis, Kilvas will be no more. Now prepare yourselves. We fly out tomorrow night."_

_Naesala immediately flew back to his palace, zooming in through an open window. Staggering to a basin, he violently retched into it. After, he collapsed onto the floor, wishing, just wishing, he could fall asleep and the whole thing would be over once he awoke._

_Unfortunately such an easy escape was not possible. The following night, Kilvas left for Phoenicis in silence and trembling. They entered the unsuspecting land of the hawks, and there Naesala gave the order. He had to give it twice - his men wouldn't respond on the first. The raven king stayed back and briefly watched as his men swooped in on the screaming, innocent hawks. After the first murders, he couldn't watch any more. His heart was broken right in two - the things he had to do to save Kilvas. Curse Begnion. Curse Lekain. Curse himself._

_It didn't take very long. When it was all over, Kilvas flew back to their own land, just as silent as when they left. Phoenicis turned into a land of wailing and morning that day. For Kilvas, it was the day after._

There was emotion on Tibarn's face. It felt strange to Naesala. Tibarn hardly ever showed emotion. Yet here he was, filled with pain and heartbreak for what happened to his people. And here he was, standing in front of his people's killer. Naesala felt worthless. He wished he could die. Perhaps, should he find a way to break the pact in his lifetime, he could end his misery soon after.

"Senator Lekain told you to do this?" Tibarn finally spoke.

"With the threat of the end of my people," Naesala solemnly nodded.

Tibarn nodded in return, biting his lip and looking down. After a pause, he stepped toward Naesala. Instead of backing up, this time Naesala stayed put. This time there was something he needed to say.

"Help me find the way to break this blood pact," Naesala said, his gaze fiery. "Once more, aid Kilvas and set us free from this slavery. We are still not free. I know there must be a way to release us from this. Please, help me find it. Help me restore some hope to Kilvas. After my people finally obtain freedom, then you may do with me as you wish. Jail me, torture me, kill me, I don't care. Just help me break this cursed pact."

Tibarn stared at Naesala for what seemed like hours before speaking: "Consider the hawks once more at your side. I will do all in my power to ensure the life of your people. We'll make it discreet. If Begnion knew we were allying after you annihilated my people, they'd suspect."

"Understood," Naesala said, feeling a heavy burden lift off his chest. "Tibarn, I don't know how to-"

"Stop speaking now, crow," Tibarn interrupted, turning and walking away. "Stay out of my hair for a while or I might take you up on your offer to 'do with you as I wish.'"

Naesala shut up, waited until Tibarn was out of sight, then sighed and took wing. Tibarn's support would surely change something. Perhaps Tibarn would find what Naesala never did. Perhaps the pact would be broken sooner than later.

Naesala flew back to Castle Kilvas with just a twinkling more hope than when he left.

_Thanks for reading this too-long-for-a-one-shot-but-too-short-for-an-actual-story...uh, story. Tell me what you think of it. It's a different flavor than Secrets Buried Deep, and to be honest I like Secrets better. But I figured nobody had focused on what Kilvas was really going through with that pact, and it might make an interesting story. Stay tuned for the next story about Stefan. I plan to challenge myself by writing it in a very different style. I'd love to hear your take on it once I start publishing it._

_Anyway, thanks again for reading! AllHailMario's sister (aka the author) appreciates your support and input. _


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